


Last Christmas: Before the Beginning

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4298430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's December 1995, and Rae is having a tough time at school, at home, at life. Then, she meets someone who seems cool, and like maybe he might understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a bunch of things. Obviously, I started this during the Christmas holidays. I got to thinking what Rae’s Christmas the year before everything happened must have been like, along with a snippet of dialogue from the session with Kester: “I had no mates …“
> 
> I guess it’s debatable whether one person can make a difference, but if Rae had met someone who could be a friend to her … I just wonder if things would have gone as far as they did. 
> 
> This is the beginning of that thing I was talking about, and there’s more, but not an end yet, but this bit seemed to be able to stand on it’s own, so here it is. (And I will say, I don’t think this is going in the usual direction to most MMFD fics … )

Rae stood at her locker, picking at the spine of her history book where it had started to split. The urge to look over her shoulder down the hall was overwhelming, but she didn’t want anyone to see how nervous and scared she felt. As she felt every fucking day. If she killed the next minute and a half looking like she was busy in her locker, then she could sneak into her last class of the day just before the bell rang and then she’d be free until next year. 

She was constantly amazed by the things people chose to forget and what they couldn’t seem to help but notice. For example, no one at school remembered her sixteenth birthday a week ago, but when Sarah and her friends sat down next to her at lunch back in October to ask her if she liked Melissa Etheridge, they chanted “Gay Rae” at her every day for a month after she’d naively said “She’s alright’, I s’pose,” because she didn’t mind her music. She’d lumbered right into their trap, and still heard it from time to time, under the breath of someone passing. She never saw who they were, her head was always down these days, and it didn’t matter, because it seemed everyone hated her. Even she hated her.

As the sting of that memory faded, she heard a familiar voice down the hall giggle, then shout, “This is too much! I don’t even know if I’ll even be here next year, you guys!” 

Chloe. 

Rae turned to look out of instinct and saw her friend holding a card in one hand and what looked like a concert ticket in the other. Then she threw her arms around Tricia’s neck and kissed her on the cheek.

Rae’s stomach dropped. Her eyes widened and mouth went dry. What did she mean she might not be here next year? Where was she going? Possibly moving away was the sort of thing best mates told each other. Even if they’d grown apart a bit, even if they didn’t talk every day, or sit with each other in the caf anymore. If Rae were moving, Chloe was the first person she’d tell. But then … she didn’t have anyone else. And now … well. Rae kind of already knew she didn’t have Chloe anymore. Not really. But this just put the topper on it.

Rae finally pulled her book out of her locker, catching herself just before she slammed the door shut. She didn’t need that sort of attention. She didn’t need any sort of attention. 

She tried not to think about the card in her locker that she’d made for Chloe. She’d been hoping to find a moment when her old friend wasn’t surrounded by a dozen of her newer, shinier mates to slip her the Christmas card she’d made from old copies of SmashHits! But now she realized it was a terrible idea. Chloe was always with her other friends, and the chances that she wouldn’t show everyone Rae’s handiwork and make fun of it were pretty slim.

Rae slipped into her seat in the back row just as the bell rang. She sighed and blinked rapidly, a tear she didn’t even realize was in her eye slipped down the side of her nose and dripped onto her desk. She hastily wiped it with the sleeve of her sweater and sniffed quietly.

* * * * *

She managed to make it out of school with only a few jeers and jabs ringing in her ears. “Oi, watch where you’re goin’, Fat Troll!” was growled at her when she came within a couple of inches of one group of girls, and then she’d almost fallen for Sarah brightly chirping, “Happy Christmas …” only to have the greeting followed by “… you fat slag!” The laughter that followed chased her down the hall.

Closing her eyes, she pushed the school door open and stepped out into the cool air of a late December afternoon. She’d heard through whispers around her at school for the past fortnight that Tricia was having a big party tonight and practically every girl in their year was invited, along with half the lads from the sixth form. Rae was actually glad she wasn’t included, because she figured it was the perfect time to go Christmas shopping, hardly anyone out there to shout names at her. 

Over the past four months, she’d gradually stopped going out to the shops other than to run errands for her mum. The chances of running into someone who was going to fling insults at her were too great. She’d sometimes slip out the back garden, up the alley and over to the fields to take a walk with her headphones blocking out the world of sound, but the four walls of her room were becoming even more familiar to her, a fortress against the slings and arrows of life.

Once home, she yanked off her school uniform and balled it up into a heap. She threw it on the floor in front of her wardrobe and jumped up and down on it a couple of times for good measure. “Two blessed weeks without that fuckin’ tie ‘round me neck like a bloody noose,” she muttered to herself. Before getting dressed, she opened her backpack and pulled out the card she’d made Chloe. She ran her fingers over the bumpy surface of shiny magazine paper dulled in spots by excess Pritt Stick, then tore it in half, then in half again, and so on until she couldn’t anymore, and dropped the pieces in the bin.

Then, she methodically put on the pieces of her armor: leggings, torn jeans over top, long sleeve shirt, band tee, flannel shirt, that pair of red and green striped socks Uncle Mark had got her from The Sock Shop last Christmas, and her red Chucks. Then, on top of that, her army green duffel coat and a black scarf. She left her mittens behind, figuring she could shove her hands into her jacket pockets. She grabbed a Curly Wurly from her top drawer and hastily unwrapped it, swallowing it in four bites. She shoved the empty wrapper back in the drawer and zipped her coat up before heading downstairs.

“Mum?” she shouted from the front door. “I’m off out for a bit, yeah?”

“Don’t be late, Rachel; I’ve got a casserole in the oven! And I leave for work at half-eight!”

“Got it, Mum! I won’t be late!” She didn’t figure she’d want to take her time out there in the wider world.

It was just gone four and the light was almost out of the sky. She wrapped her scarf around her neck one more time and zipped her jacket all the way up, huddling her shoulders against the chill as she trudged into town.

She only had a few presents to buy. Talc for her grandma, a pair of silly socks for her Uncle Mark, and something for her mum. She’d thought about getting something for Chloe, but after today, after this week, after … everything, she nixed that idea. She also wanted to get a card for her dad, a nice one, not one she collaged out of magazines, one that said all the things she didn’t know how to: how she missed him or at least hated the absence he’d created that nothing seemed to fill, how she wanted to know him but was afraid he’d disappoint her … oh, and Happy Christmas, too. Maybe her mum could call him and get his address. He kept leaving it off the postcards.

She’d looked in several shops, but nothing really felt right,  _enough_ , for her mum. As much as Linda got on her tits, she was really the only person who cared about her in the world. 

Rae decided to defer her decision for a bit when she saw the record store window, all twinkling with fairy lights and posters for Oasis and The Offspring.  _It couldn’t hurt to look_ , she thought.

The bell tinkled overhead as she opened the door. The smell of incense hit her nostrils, and Rae felt her shoulders unclench. There was something about this shop, with its bare wood display bins and walls covered thick with posters and promotional flyers, the wall of new release albums behind the counter, and the counter itself covered in band stickers and guitar picks, then resined over. Every inch of the place had something to look at or focus on, and the bins were at the perfect height for her to rest her elbows on the top of the CDs while she flipped through them. In a world where she always felt too big or too conspicuous, she felt like she just  _fit_  in here. And she mercifully felt like the least interesting thing in there, so it was unlikely she’d be stared at. People who came in here were looking for their next favorite band or a new song to soothe their soul. They were kindred spirits, even if they never said a syllable to each other.

Rae ran her fingers along the top edge of a row of CD cases, feeling the moulded plastic corners bump against the pads of her fingers. She picked up a copy of Morning Glory and stared at it longingly. She had the cassette, which was fine, but sometimes she just wanted to listen to Champagne Supernova on a loop for an hour and she didn’t want to ruin her tape. Sighing, she put it back in its place and wandered over to the display of Christmas music. Maybe she could get her mum a holiday tape.

All the other stores she’d been in had been teeming with people, which made her anxious, which made it hard for her to focus. In here, it was calm. There was music playing, but at that perfect level where Rae could tune in or tune out, depending on her mood. There was the aging punk behind the counter, nodding his head absent-mindedly to the beat of the music, and a old fella in a tweed jacket perusing the Jazz section. Other than that, there was only one other soul in the store, a young guy in a leather jacket that she kept seeing out of the corner of her eye. But he didn’t seem threatening, just maybe he liked some of the same stuff she did. 

She shook her head to clear it and read the album titles. Lots of Cliff Richard, whom her mother liked, but Rae couldn’t bring herself to buy for anything. 

She unzipped her jacket and unwound her scarf; it was a little warm. She should probably head back out into the madding crowds and find something for her mum, but it was so nice and peaceful here. And she hadn’t looked at the bargain bin yet. She  _always_  pored over the bargain bin looking for deals. Every once in a while, she lucked out and found a used copy of something new or rare. Something that someone had only listened to once and brought in to trade. That’s how she’d gotten a pristine copy of The Bends, and scored the Root Down EP as they were putting out recently acquired stock. 

Lately, she’d been keeping an eye out for Elvis Costello, and she needed someone to get rid of a copy of Different Class, because Jarvis Cocker’s voice was seriously sexy, but she couldn’t convince her mum to buy her a copy for her birthday because she’d read in the paper about how it was all about S-E-X. 

That guy flitted past her periphery again. It was like he was circling closer and closer, but so slowly she almost couldn’t tell. 

Normally, the shop closed at eight through the week, and Rae had been counting on Paul the Punk to announce they were closing up so she wouldn’t be late home, but they must have decided to stay open later the week before Christmas, because when Rae looked at her watch it was just gone eight.

“Bollocks!” she whispered through clenched teeth. She dropped the cassette she was holding and walked swiftly to the door. She’d gone half a block when she heard someone shout “Hey!” behind her. She broke her stride for a second, but figured no one would be calling for her. But then there were a couple more “Hey!”s shouted, the last one right behind her. She turned to see the guy from the record store jogging after her.

“You, er, dropped this back there.” He handed over her scarf. “Figured it’s pretty cold out; you’d be missin’ it.”

Rae gingerly took the scarf from his outstretched hand. “Th-thanks,” she whispered, turning away.

“No worries.” A beat passed, and Rae was sure he’d left, gone back towards the shop, but then she heard, “Happy Christmas, I guess.”

Rae paused and glanced over her shoulder. She nodded. “Yeah, you too.”

The lad smiled broadly and nodded back. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

“Uh, yeah, maybe.” She wound the scarf around her neck a couple of times and picked up her pace, to avoid the wrath of Linda, and to distance herself from a possible embarrassment. Surely he only said that to be nice, but the moment of kindness kindled in her chest, warming her more than the scarf.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here’s some more of this. Still not 100% sure where this is going, but carrying on regardless.

Rae came home to an empty house, and found a tersely worded note from her mum reminding her that there was a casserole in the oven on the counter. She sighed as she balled the scrap of paper up and dropped it in the bin. Then she had her tea on a tray over telly (like most nights), washed her plates, and left them to dry on the rack before heading upstairs to bed. 

She settled into her bed and smiled when she remembered she didn’t need to set her alarm for the next two weeks, and stretched her arm over to reach the button on the back of her clock. Then, she tuned the radio around to see if she could pick up that station from Manchester she’d heard a couple weeks back. The static modulated in and out to catch bits of Christmas songs “… _nipping at your nose_  …” “…  _the stars are brightly shiiiiiining_  …” “ …  _thank god it’s them instead of yooouuu_  …” but no luck on the New Wave Night she was hoping to hear. She settled for pop songs that weren’t Christmas-themed, and kept the volume very low.

As she tried to fall asleep, a face kept floating behind her eyelids when she closed them. A sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of a perfect nose. Brown hair in a fringe above a pair of dark eyes. Those eyes were glancing up at her through longer lashes than any bloke had the right to have, and his eyebrows were … well, impressive was the word that came to mind. 

“Get out of here, pretty boy, leave me in peace,” she sighed, trying to drive him out. 

The back of her brain kept wondering who he was, though. They seemed pretty much of an age, but he wasn’t at Tricia’s party, which seemed strange. Hadn’t he been invited? He didn’t seem like the type to be excluded from a party. Maybe he didn’t go to school? Well, Rae thought, she wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers. Crackers made her think of that cheese log her mum made every year and the spread they’d have for Christmas and soon she was distracted enough to fall asleep.

 

* * * * *

The next morning, she and her mum nearly clashed on the stairs. Rae was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes on her way to put the kettle on and her mum was swallowing a yawn as she trudged up the stairs to her room. They nodded, each twisting around the other as they passed. 

Rae squinted at the lit Christmas tree in the lounge as she waited for the water to boil. The fairy lights went in and out of focus, points of lights sharpening and blurring. Then her gaze dropped to the meager presents underneath. There were a few with her name on them, and a gift bag for her mum from Mrs. Dewhurst that Linda had stuck under the tree without opening, but they both knew it was some of Mrs. D’s homemade fudge. Her mum would get a gift from Uncle Mark and something hideous from her own mum, but it was up to Rae to get her something special. Something that would make Linda smile. That would make her feel like the year of drudgery and strife was worth the struggle. It was a tall order and Rae wasn’t sure she was up to it.

* * * * *

She was first in the door at 11:00 when the record shop opened. This time, she went straight to the holiday section, and was determined to find something her mum would really like, even if it was sodding Cliff Richard. If she could find something under seven pound fifty, then she’d go back to Marks and get her some bath stuff, too. 

She was reading the track listing on a Christmas compilation tape when a voice at her shoulder startled her. 

“Back again?” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

She jumped, clutching the tape to her chest. When she looked over to find the lad from last night grinning at her, she sighed. “Uh, yeah, if that’s alrigh’ with you.” She couldn’t keep the defensive tone out of her voice as her eyebrows knitted together. She was suspicious of his apparent friendliness, though a quick glance around the shop revealed no one else. 

“So, you, uh … a fan of Christmas music?” he asked, looking at the tape still resting in her hands, which were practically nestled in her cleavage, which was luckily concealed behind several layers. 

She stood up straighter and dropped her hands to her sides. Not knowing where to look, she glanced at everything except him. “Uh, not specially. Some of it’s alright, but I’m looking for somethin’ for my mum.”

He was quiet and still after her answer. Peering out of the corner of her eye at him, she could see his grin had disappeared. “Oh, well, carry on, then.” He stepped back, retreated to the next aisle. 

Rae bit her lip. What had she said? She hadn’t exactly loved the attention he was paying her, because attention never seemed to be a good thing for her, but when he was gone, she sort of missed … being noticed. 

She put the tape back and picked up another one blindly, mind working overtime to think of what she could say to let him know she hadn’t meant to put him off.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Mum’s are so hard to buy for, y’know?” The lad’s gaze flicked up to meet hers, but he didn’t reply. “At least mine is. I never know what to get her, and when I ask, she’s always like,” her voice shifted up into a falsetto impersonation of her mum, “‘Oh, any old thing will suit me … I’m not fussy.’ Yeah, right.”

A corner of his mouth slowly curled up. He shrugged. “I dunno what to get me nan. She’s sort of like me mum, I guess, but I really want to get her somethin’ special, but can’t think of what to buy her.”

Rae winced.  _Is his mum dead? Oh, shit._  She’d really stepped in it. Typical of her to find the exact wrong thing to say. But, for once, she didn’t want to dwell on her fuck up, so she just said, “Oh, yeah? I always just get my grandma some talc. I don’t think she even uses it, but it’s cheap and she never complains. But I only see her a couple times a year, and she always gets me some piece of horrifying clothing that never fits. Either made for a toddler or a lumberjack … not sure where she shops, but …”

His smile spread and deepened. She was getting to like the look of it on his face. “‘Course, I’m sort of built like a lumberjack, so maybe I shouldn’t complain.” She choked out a laugh. 

His smile dimmed a bit, and he shook his head before offering “I’m, uh, Finn, by the way.”

“Oh! Cool.” Her eyes widened in horror as she turned to look at something, anything, that wasn’t facing his direction.  _Cool?_

There was a pause, and she turned back to see Finn looking at her expectantly. “And you . . ?”

“OH! Yeah, sorry. I’m Rae.”

A familiar look of confusion clouded his face for a second.

She proffered her standard follow up: “As in Rachel.”

He nodded in understanding.

“So, you’re lookin’ for a present, too? For your nan?”

Finn shrugged. “I guess. Me dad’s always like, ‘get someone something you’d like’ but that doesn’t exactly translate for a seventy-year-old woman, does it?”

Rae thought about getting Mrs. Dewhurst the latest Blur album and giggled before she could stop herself. “Yeah, I guess not.”

“I already got me dad his gift … he’s loads easier to buy for. Just get him some special edition Status Quo on vinyl and he’s sorted.”

Rae nodded thoughtfully, thinking about her own absent father. “Mmmm,” she murmured.

Finn looked at her with an expression tinged with worry, like maybe  _he’d_  stepped in it now.

“Oh, I just don’t get anythin’ for my dad. He lives in the Outer Hebrides somewhere.” Finn’s face scrunched in disbelief. “No, really! I was going to buy him a card this year, but … I don’t exactly know where he lives.” As she said it out loud, she realized how pathetic it sounded.

Finn nodded. Was she imagining a sympathetic look on his face?

“He’s been gone a long time.” She couldn’t believe she was saying all this. She blinked at the back of a Rosemary Clooney tape. “Don’t matter.”

Finn cleared his throat and now looked supremely uncomfortable. She must have been imagining it. Her and her big mouth. She balled her free hand into a fist and bit the inside of her lip. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Shouldn’t have said anythin’; it’s borin’ and stupid.” She lowered the tape back onto the display and started to turn herself towards the exit. The flight instinct was strong within her. Always best to bugger off, in almost every situation.

“No, wait!” The insistence gave her pause. There was a sincerity there. So, she waited, turning a quarter turn back, to peer at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Sorry, it’s just … I … my mum left. So, I guess … I sort of get it.” He didn’t look at her while he was talking, but glanced up when he finished.

Rae looked around the store, bewildered. Had she stepped into some alternate universe? It seemed the same as it had been last night. Same clerk, two other customers browsing quietly; evidence of other life. It was light out; the earth was still revolving round the sun. Then she looked back at this fit bloke, who had just revealed an equally soul-baring truth to her, apparently just to make her feel better. To make her stay. She found him pursing his lips, while his other features wore an expression she couldn’t quite decipher. She couldn’t help herself from smiling, which caused Finn to scoff. Now he was the one who seemed ready to bolt.

“No, sorry!” She wanted to explain. “I just … here I was thinkin’ she’d died or summat and that I’d _really_  put my foot in it.” She shrugged, and tried to turn her smile into a look of apology. “Sorry. Guess we have something really shite in common.”

Finn sighed. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

Rae shook her head. “Well, this has already been a weird day, and it’s not even noon.” 

Finn laughed through his nose and  looked up at her through his lashes. She thought she might just melt into a puddle right then and there. Headline of the local paper would read:  **Girl Disintegrates in Random Attack of Horn; Town Mourns Her Passing**

Instead, she struggled to maintain her corporeal form and tore her gaze away, eyes landing back on the Christmas display. She decided it was time to choose something, anything, and beat a hasty retreat. The longer she stayed, the more likely she was to humiliate herself.

First thing she saw was a Peter Paul and Mary holiday compilation. Fine, swell, good. They were folky, and old-school, and she knew her mum didn’t have this one. She grabbed it and quickly headed to the counter. One of the few other souls in the shop had beaten her to the punch, and he seemed to be buying the entire Decca back catalogue. Paul the Punk was taking his time, so Finn was able to catch up to her. 

“Uh, a-are you … done? All that agonizin’ and you just … like that?” Finn questioned from behind her.

She kept looking ahead, leaning to the left to get a better look at the impressive stack of CDs on the counter. “Uhhh, yeah, I guess. I mean, I dunno why I’m so worried. I can’t get my mum anythin’ life-changin’, so a tape of Christmas music she doesn’t already have … maybe a bottle of bubble bath … best I can do.”

“Oh … okay, then. I’ll just … yeah.” Even though she was very deliberately not looking at Finn, she could feel him walking away.

She rolled her eyes and puffed out a sigh before turning around to see him shuffling back to the Jazz and Swing section. A glance back to the counter confirmed that Paul was carefully peeling each sticker off each CD, painstakingly putting it in the book and diligently writing down the title and price for a master receipt. She could be here till Christmas. She sighed and flounced 180 degrees to follow after Finn.

“Well, since they’ll be until tea-time ringin’ up that order … what’re you lookin’ for?” She asked the question without looking at him, but out of her peripheral vision she could see him glance at her. 

He didn’t answer. Not right away. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, cleared his throat, and said, “Somethin’ life-changin’, I s’pose.”

At that, Rae peered over him, just in time to see his gaze flick away, down at the case in front of him. 

“That’s a tall order,” she sighed. “‘Specially for a seventy-year-old woman. Hard to change a life that’s lived that much.” 

Finn hummed. “S’pose you’re right. I just …” 

Rae waited. “You just … ?”

“I remembered a story she told me, ‘bout when she were a lass. She had this little portable record player, for 78s, and about 20 records, but they had to sell it when her dad got called up.”

Rae felt that pain like it had happened to her. “Oh, no!” she said out loud, not meaning to, and then clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Yeah, total shite.” 

She cleared her throat before murmuring, “So, you wanna … get her some of the same music she lost?” 

Finn shrugged. “I only know a few of the bands. If I ask her … it’ll look … weird if I get her CDs of the same people.”

Now, it was only her heart that melted. This guy wasn’t real; he couldn’t be. She dug her jagged nails into her palms to check she was awake. Then, aware she hadn’t made a reply, quickly batted back with “No, it won’t! It’ll be … she’ll love it. She’ll know you care. Even more than she prob’ly already knows.”

Finn furrowed his brows as he stared at an Ella Fitzgerald CD. “You think?”

Rae nodded. “Absolutely.”

Finn visibly relaxed, shoulders dropping. He glanced over at her again. “Do you … would you come with me? To ask her?”

“Huh? No! I mean, why?” 

He hunched his shoulders again. “Never mind. Stupid idea. I’ll … I’ll figure it out.”

Rae bit her lip. “Sorry, just … I don’t get why you’d want me to come. Like, you don’t even know me. And I’ve never met your nan, so …”

“It was dumb of me to ask. I just … I’m not really good with words, an’ you … ya seem … you’re the first person in a long time that I could … just talk to. I mean, other than me dad and me nan.”

Rae mulled over that statement. She used to feel like she was good at chatting with people. She read a lot and was always scribbling stuff down in her notebooks for school … little phrases that plagued her, and descriptions of things. She’d sometimes think a description of something or someone that just felt so apt. So exactly how the thing was. It was one of the few things that made her smile these days. But she hadn’t talked much these past few months. She’d grown another two inches taller and another size larger over the summer. So, she was even more of a freak than the previous year. If she kept growing at this rate, she’d be ten feet tall and 35 stone by the time she graduated university. People stopped talking to her, and just said mean things AT her. Now, she just groused with her mum and spoke in class when called upon. Other than that, it was just constant conversations in her brain between her and Damon Albarn, her and Shirley Manson, her and Colin Firth. That Pride and Prejudice that just aired in the fall was fucking brilliant and hello ding-dong Darcy! 

She hadn’t realized that her mind was still racing until Finn mumbled, “Sorry for askin’. It was stupid … I shouldn’t’ve.”

“No, I’m sorry. I just … it’s a bit of a surprise. I … most people don’t wanna talk to me.” She swallowed thickly. “I’m not … well, ‘not popular’ is an understatement.” She sighed. “But if you think I’ll help or … whatever … I mean, why not? Spirit of Christmas an’ all that.”

“Y’serious?” Finn asked, and Rae had a moment of panic when she couldn’t read his tone. Was he happy? Or disappointed? Had he asked her on a dare and was now annoyed that she’d agreed to go with him to his nan’s?

“Wellll … sure. If you’re sure, that is. And don’t ask me if I’m sure again; I might just change me mind.”

Finn grinned and cocked his head toward the door in a silent  _Shall we?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I have literally no idea how long this is going to go on for. This is moving at a pretty glacial pace right now, so if I don’t pick it up soon, who knows how many eons it’ll take?

Finn paused outside the record shop to pull out a pack of smokes. It was an old, beat-up box, and the cigarette he extracted gingerly was clearly hand-rolled. He quickly placed one end between his lips, which made Rae unconsciously lick her own. When she realized that she was staring, she bit her now moist bottom lip and looked away. She heard the unmistakeable metallic click of a Zippo flipping open, followed by the soft whoosh of the flame igniting. She didn’t hear him inhale, but she heard the air leave his lungs, then smelled the tobacco smoke as it crept through the air. A final click signaled he had shut his lighter, and she glanced back. Finn was pocketing the Zippo and caught her eye. He shrugged and motioned with one shoulder for her to follow him.

As they walked down the street, Rae’s eyes darted all around. She was on the lookout for twats. She kept a pace behind him, and when she saw the Green Lane Gang walking the same direction as them a block ahead, she dropped back three more. Finn glanced over his shoulder and when he sensed she wasn’t at his flank, he swiveled his head over his shoulder and looked worried. “Y’alright back there? Somethin’ wrong?”

Rae scoffed under her breath.  _Uh, no, I’m never alright and everything’s always wrong_ , was the answer that echoed in her brain, but she just made a quick shake of her head and lied, “Nah, sorry. Just … got a rock in me shoe.” She shook her right foot to lend credence to her lie. “I’ll catch up.”

Finn stopped and fell back, shifting his cigarette from his right hand to his left. “You can lean on me, if you want to take your shoe off and get it out.”

She stepped her foot back down. “Huh, it moved. It’s gone. Let’s just go.” She started to stride ahead, even though she didn’t know where they were going. “Is it much farther?”

Finn jogged to catch up with her. “No, just … she’s actually … she fell last month and broke her hip, so she’s in a rehab place over by the hospital. That’s the other reason I wanted to get her somethin’ extra nice, to cheer her up, like.”

Rae slowed down, squeezing her eyes closed.  _Is this guy for real_?

“What’d you say?” he asked.

“Oh, shit, did I say that out loud?” Rae rushed her words out, then bit her lip hard in penance.

“Ya said somethin’, what was it?” Finn furrowed his brow, jutted his chin out, and gave her a hurt look.

Rae cleared her throat. “Uhhh, nothin’. Nothin’ worth repeatin’.” She continued rabbiting on. “My mum says I talk more random than duck’s shite and … she’s right. I’d never let her hear me admit it, but … I talk too much and my mouth is faster than my brain. So, don’t worry abou’ it, yeah?”

Finn pursed his lips and chewed the inside of his cheek. He kicked at the pavement and started to walk away from Rae. “I  _am_  real,” he muttered.

Now Rae rushed to catch up with him, catching the outside of the crook of his arm with her hand. “‘Course ya are; I’m sorry. It’s just … do you have any idea … I just don’t understand why …” her words faded away. She couldn’t find the right ones, so she might as well just shut up and go home. Her hand dropped and she started to turn away.

“I’ve seen ya before, okay?” Finn muttered in her direction.

Rae froze; her breathing became as shallow as … well, as shallow as everyone at school was.

“You’re always walkin’ out in the fields, yeah? And scribblin’ in that notebook … right?”

Rae blinked rapidly and felt the blood rushing in her head. The tips of her finger tingled. She rubbed her thumbs along the jagged ridges of her bitten nails. The action brought her back to her senses and she looked around, seeing the Green Lane Gang coming back their direction. Her eyes darted around and then she sprinted down the closest alley. She made sure she was halfway down the block before she stopped to lean against the stone wall and catch her breath. When she looked back to see if they’d spotted her, she saw Finn’s face covered in a quizzical expression.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she murmured. “Fine.” She waved him towards her with her hand.

He glanced over his shoulder and hurried down the alley. When he got nearer, he whispered. “What the fuck is goin’ on?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Rae seethed. “Have you been followin’ me? Did someone … put you up to this?”

Finn pitched his head forward, took one last drag, and dropped what was left of his rollie on the pavement, grinding it under the tip of his boot. He ran his hand through his hair, sighing. “No! Not … followin’. An’ … what? No one put me up to anythin’. I—I just … like I said, I’ve seen ya ‘round, and ya seemed … I dunno. Like you seemed to look … cool. And maybe a little …  lost, which is how I feel all the time. I jus’ thought …” He trailed off, and kicked the pavement again. Then, he glanced up at her through his fringe. “Y’—y’never noticed me, didja.”

He said it like a statement of fact. And, in fact, it was true. She’d never noticed him before. Stamford was a small town, but she’d been withdrawing further and further into her shell, keeping her head down. She felt like she’d been stuffed into a box that was too small to contain her, so she couldn’t focus on anything but how uncomfortable she was.

And then there was that part that she couldn’t really say. That even if she  _had_  noticed him, she’d never admit it, because it seemed everyone had already decided what she deserved, which wasn’t much. She could lust after pop stars and actors, but not real life boys. If anyone ever found out she fancied a particular boy, her life would be made even more of a misery than it currently was.

She looked at him, waited for him to meet her gaze. “No, I didn’t. But that’s nothin’ to do with you. I—I’ve been keepin’ meself to meself for awhile. It’s easier that way. Safer.”

Finn looked up, clearly confused, but didn’t say anything as he cast his eyes down again.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Rae sighed. “Let’s just go see your nan.”

* * * * *

They’d almost gotten sucked into a conversation Rae wasn’t prepared to have, and that was the only way she knew to get out of it. Finn led her silently through the alley, over a couple streets, and through the front door of the rehab facility. Finn signed in at the desk.

“She’s, uh, down ‘ere …” He motioned down a hallway with dull lino and fluorescent lights flickering overhead.

Room 127. Finn walked right in and sat down in the chair next to his nan’s bedside. Rae hung back in the doorway, hesitating. Then, Finn said, “Hiya, Nan. This is … this is Rae.” He held his hand out to gesture behind him and then saw she was still dithering by the door. “C’mon in, then.” He smirked at her, which caused her to smirk back, but she stepped over the threshold. She hovered a foot back from Finn, glancing around for a chair.

“Oh, right, here,” Finn stood up and patted the top of the chair. “Sit here.”

“I’m alright,” she protested.

“Don’t be daft,” he said. “I’ll grab another from the hall.” He disappeared for a minute. Rae watched him leave and then looked at her hands before glancing up at his nan. She was smiling at Rae, one of those knowing old lady smiles.

“Hiya,” Rae whispered.

“Hello, dear,” Finn’s nan replied. “It’s nice to meet one of Finn’s friends.”

Rae pressed her lips together in a line at this remark. They weren’t friends, and weren’t likely to be, but best not confuse an old woman. She just nodded.

Finn came back in with an identical chair. “Had to nick this from the waiting room, Nan, so remind me to take it back when we go.” He gave her a wink and effortlessly set the chair next to Rae’s. She stood up.

“You can have this one; it’s nearer your nan.”

“Nah, you’re alrigh’.” Finn plonked down next to her and turned to his nan. “How’ve ya been? They still treatin’ ya good?”

His nan nodded. “Everyone’s been lovely. I go everyday for physiotherapy. Yesterday, I went in the pool!”

Finn grinned. “Oh, yeah? Bet ya made some of the ol’ codgers in here blush.” His nan tutted him and stared to protest, but Rae just stared at him. Was this the same bloke who had stammered at her in the record shop?

He glanced over at her, and seemed disconcerted to already find her looking at him. He cleared his throat and said, “Uh, Nan, I was tellin’ Rae your story about how you had t’give up your record collection. She were interested in which albums y’had. Isn’t tha’ right, Rae?”

Rae came back to herself and said, “Oh! Yeah! I … that must’ve been devastatin’, losin’ all that music.”

She nodded gravely. “Well, we all hadta make sacrifices back then. It was hard an’ no mistake, bu’ without me dad’s regular income, we sold a lot of things t’scrape by.”

Rae’s eyes flicked over to Finn and he glanced significantly to her bag. Right, her notebook. She reached into her bag, praying fruitlessly that she’d left one of her class notebooks in her backpack, but she knew she hadn’t. Her fingers found the corner of her diary and she drew it out, gingerly, and riffled through the pages. When she found a blank one, she leafed a few more pages ahead, for good measure. No need for Finn to accidentally read any of her mad ramblings or see her doodles of a shirtless Damon Albarn.

“Umm, I’ve been interested in learnin’ more about jazz an’ swing from that time, Mrs … ?” She realized she didn’t even know Finn’s last name, bu’ that it didn’t matter because she could be his mum’s mum, or have gotten remarried, or who knows what. She blinked to stop herself rolling her eyes at the absurdity of the situation.

“… Nelson, dear. Same as Finn, o’course. But y’can call me Mae.”

“Right … sorry. I weren’t sure. Mrs… Mae, what were some o’ your favorite singers, bands?” Her eyes flitted to Finn’s, where she was unexpectedly rewarded with a look of gratitude for playing along. She glanced away quickly, back to Mae. “Like, which albums didja have?”

As Mae recounted a list of singers, band leaders, duos, trios, quartets, and orchestras, Rae scribbled them all down as fast as she could. She only stopped to look up when Mae had been silent for a bit. She found the old woman staring wistfully into the middle distance. “I wish I’d been able to buy ‘em back, or replace ‘em, but by the time the war was over, I’d started steppin’ out wi’ Finn’s granddad an’ soon we needed all our money for the weddin’.”

Rae tried to imagine having to give up all her music, and just rely on the radio for tunes. She practically shuddered at the thought.

A nurse appeared at the door and said, “I think that’s enough for today, Mae. We don’t want to wear you out now!”

Rae slipped her notebook into her bag as Finn stood up to give his nan a hug and a peck on the cheek. He murmured something into her ear, and the old woman smiled before she whispered something in response. Finn dropped his head and his face seemed to color a bit.

Mae gave Rae a little wave, which Rae returned. “Nice meetin’ ya,” she said. Mae smiled and nodded. “Likewise, my dear. Hope to see you again!”

Out in the hall, Finn seemed a little nervous, which Rae thought odd, since they’d already done what they came to do. His eyes darted around the hall, but when they found Rae’s gaze, he smiled and sighed. “Thanks for that,” he said.

“Oh, no bother. I … well, I didn’t have anythin’ else to do, that’s for sure.” Finn stopped at the desk to sign out, and Rae took the opportunity to open her bag and tear out the list she’d made. She folded the page in half and handed it to Finn. “Here ya go,” she said, waiting for him to take the paper.

Finn stared at it for a long moment before gently plucking it from her grasp. “Oh, right,” he said absently.

Outside, Rae zipped up her jacket and shouldered her bag. “I’ll … well, hope that helped. Have a nice Christmas, yeah?” She turned on her heel and heard Finn immediately protest.

“Wait, are ya … do ya … I’m headin’ back to the shop now … ya never got your mum anythin’, right?”

Rae paused. It was true. She still needed something to give her mum.

“S’pose not.”

“Well, if ya can stand the sight o’ me for a little longer, maybe y’can help me find some of this lot?” He raised the list.

Rae held her breath for a long moment, until she almost went dizzy, and the world started to blur at the edges. Her instincts kicked in and her lungs drew a deep breath.

“Yeah, okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m aware this story is only marginally Christmassy. I … don’t know if it’s enough, but it feels okay in spots, and I think I have a better idea of where it’s going now. This chapter’s pretty long, almost 5K; hope it’s worth it!

Rae slipped her key into the lock of the front door, turned it, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. The door shut behind her, and she made sure it was latched securely. She still had the carrier bag from the record shop clutched in her hand, and she leaned back against the door frame for a moment. The house was quiet and still and her sense of hearing seemed heightened. She could hear the clock ticking in the kitchen, her heart pounding in her ears, the creak of the electric fire in the lounge.  

She didn’t know what to make of it. She’d spent the whole day with this proper fit lad. This proper nice lad. She’d met his nan. They’d talked about music and families and, well, loads of stuff, really. And now, what? Was that it?

If that was it … well, what  _was_  it? She’d never be able to tell anyone, not that she even really wanted to. It was like something special, something sacred. For a few hours, she was allowed to feel almost normal. Or, at least, not forced to confront just how AB-normal she felt.

“That you, Rae?” her mum shouted from upstairs. Rae rolled her eyes. Lightning-fast reactions, her mum. They’d better hope they never got burgled.

“Yeah, it’s me!”

“Leftovers okay for tea, love?”

“Yeah, whatever!”

“Can you heat ‘em up? I’m almost ready for work!”

Rae shoulders hunched as she sighed quietly. “Yeah, alright!”

* * * * *

Linda patted Rae on the shoulder absentmindedly as she got up from the table, dragging her coat on before heading to work. “Be good!” she shouted over her shoulder. They always seemed to be shouting at each other, even when they weren’t angry.

Rae nodded slowly, even though she could hear the door closing shut. She stared into space for a long moment, then stood up to scrape the last bits of food on their plates into the bin. She walked over to the sink and stuck them in the washing up bowl, running the tap over them for a bit, but didn’t pick up the sponge. She had all night and morning to wash up.

_Be good_. Her mum’s words echoed in her brain.  _Was_  she good? On the face of it, in the way her mum meant it, certainly. Despite giving her mum an attitude pretty regularly and thinking some uncharitable things, largely she was just … there. She was neutral, if anything.

“Be neutral, love!” she said aloud, affecting that same falsetto she’d used mimicked her mum at the record shop.

She wandered into the lounge to plop herself onto the sofa, switched on the telly with the remote, and tried to switch off her brain.

* * * * *

In the morning, she was woken by a knock at the door. Rae was still half asleep and thought she was dreaming at first. After the third round of rapping, she rolled over to look at the clock. Half-seven.

“Bloody hell. It’s the Christmas holidays, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered as she got out of bed and slipped on her striped dressing gown. She plodded down the stairs as the bell rang out, followed by another round of knocking.

“Hellooooo?” a voice called. “Rachel?”

As she got closer to the pebbled glass door, she saw a distorted face pressed against it, a hand cupping one side, squinting to see inside.

Mrs. Dewhurst.

Rae rolled her eyes, but stopped short of sighing as she opened the door.

Mrs. Dewhurst bustled in. “Good morning, Rachel! They asked your mum to stay on a bit after her shift, someone was running late or somethin’. She didn’t want you worryin’, so called to ask me to pop over and check in on ya.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Dewhurst. I’m alright.” _I was actually asleep_ , she silently seethed.

“Well, if ya need anythin’, let me know.” She looked around the entryway appraisingly, and when Rae didn’t say anything else, she turned back to the front door. Rae found herself stopping the old woman with a question.

“Actually, I was wonderin’ … did you listen to records when you was younger?”

Mrs. Dewhurst gave her a quizzical look. “Well, everyone did, more or less. Though I preferred to go to the pictures.”

Rae smiled. “Well, do ya … do ya know those carryin’ cases? For old records, I mean?”

Mrs. Dewhurst looked slightly affronted by Rae’s use of the world ‘old’, but nodded. “I s’pose so, why the inquiry?”

“Just … if I wanted ta buy one now, like, one from then, where d’ya think I might find one?”

“Hmmmm, well, let me think. I s’pose charity shops would be your best bet, Oxfam or Barnardo’s. There are a couple of shops filled with old tat off the high street, too. But, as ya probably know wi’ stuff like that, there’s no guarantee they’ll have what you’re lookin’ for.” She nodded brusquely and headed out, back over the road to hers.

Rae nodded as she left, murmuring her thanks.

Yesterday, when they’d got back to the record shop, they’d mainly spent their time looking for titles for Finn’s nan. There actually wasn’t much in the CDs or tapes, and Finn had seemed kind of down, maybe more defeated. There were a few 78s, though, and they were cheap, so Finn bought them, but as he pointed out, “She doesn’t even have a way to play ‘em. She gave me her record player a couple years ago. An’ if I tried to give it back …” he shook his head.

Rae pondered this for a moment, then went into the kitchen to wash up the dishes from last night while she made some toast. Lost in thought, she’d opened the junk drawer instead of the one that held the cutlery, and the overhead light glinted off something she hadn’t thought about in a couple of days. She quickly slammed the drawer shut and fumbled for a butter knife, trying to drive the thought deep back down from where it came.

* * * * *

An hour later, she was showered and dressed, her chucks pounding the pavement as she walked back to the high street. This was the third time in as many days she’d voluntarily ventured into town. It was like she didn’t even know herself anymore.

She had a nose round Barnardo’s but didn’t find anything. Those “shops filled with old tat” didn’t open until 11, so she ended up at Oxfam next, her enthusiasm for her idea fading minute by minute. “Just another hare-brained scheme,” she muttered, picking up a music box and winding it up a few times to hear the notes of ‘Greensleeves’ plink out at half speed.

When the music stopped completely, she placed the box back on the counter and wandered to the rear of the shop. She and her mum were not infrequent customers here, and she’d actually volunteered here a time or two, when they’d had charity drives at school. Consequently, she knew they had transitional area near the back where they put stuff that would go in the shop, but hadn’t been ‘processed’.

There were all sorts in the pile. Gilt picture frames without glass nor backing, old tins, milk bottles, a hand-painted ceramic dog which might have been a spaniel, several flower pots with chipped glazing, a little wobbly side table …

And then, there it was. Dusty and dull, but it shone like a beacon to Rae. Under the grime of several decades, she could see that it was pale blue, with lime and white stripes down the middle. The brown leather handle was pretty worn; the brass clasps were tarnished and spotted, and the cover had begun to peel away in a couple of spots. But Rae knew she could clean it up. It was the exact size to house the 78s Finn had bought, and it looked to be from about the right time, too.

As she walked up to the counter, she recognized the woman at the till. Vera was sound, and would often give her a discount. Still, didn’t hurt to play it cool.

“H’lo, Rachel. How’s your mum, then?”

“Hiya, Vera. Oh, pretty good, y’know.”

“Looks like ya found somethin’?”

Rae offhandedly placed the case on the counter. “Yeah, it was under a load of stuff in back. Looks pretty dusty, but I thought maybe I’d see what ya wanted for it.”

Vera eyed it the object, picked it up by the handle and opened it up. “Bit musty inside, too,” she clucked her tongue. “I’ll let ya have it for 20p. We prob’ly shouldn’t have even had it in the shop in this condition, but if you think you can get some use out of it …”

Rae smiled and put her hand in her pocket, pulling out a coin. “Thanks, Vera!” She bounded out of the shop, wishing Vera a good day.

“Don’t you want a bag?” was the cashier’s reply.

Rae paused in the doorway, bell still tinkling overhead, and pivoted back.  _Actually_  … “Yeah, maybe. Do ya have somethin’ sturdy?”

Vera snapped her fingers and leant under the counter for a moment, popping back up with an oversized brown paper bag.

“Thanks, again!” Rae was off back home.

* * * * *

She’d cleaned up the case as best she could, gluing down the cover in spots and shining the hardware and handle. It was now sitting on the sofa next to her, while the phone sat in her lap as she stared at the phone book, feeling distressed.

Finn Nelson.

Nelson.

Nelson, Nelson, Nelson.

There were 23 Nelsons in the directory.

She had no idea what his dad’s first name might be. She found Mae’s phone number, but then, she wouldn’t be home, would she?

This idea was ludicrous, and she felt a fool. How was she going to find him to give it to him? She could hang round near the rehab place, or she could go to the record shop and see if he came back. But that felt really creepy. And was she just supposed to carry this bag around with her wherever she went?

She looked over at the case with a scowl. It seemed to silently mock her.

Standing up, she put the phone back on the table near the hall and shoved the phone book into it’s slot underneath. She slipped the case back into the bag Vera had given her and got dressed for the weather, slinging her backpack over her shoulder on her way out the door. She made sure not to slam it, as her mum was asleep upstairs.

Out on her front stoop, she looked left, then right, then left again. Her mouth turned down in determination and she turned left and headed for the fields. Maybe she’d get a brainwave out there, clear her head, see another option.

The sun was struggling through low clouds. Every now and then, a ray of light would break through. It was warmer than the other night, though the wind was still bracing.

When she got to the the meadows, she headed to her favorite tree, it was the biggest in a line of six, and near the river. The leaves had fallen, so there wasn’t any shade from the infrequent sunshine, but there was a nice spot at the base of the smooth trunk where she could lean back and read or write, or just stick her headphones on and shut out the rest of the world.

The holidays gave her more time to think, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing, but at least she didn’t have the loop of the day’s insults on instant reply in her brain.

As she settled in, she gathered her long hair at the back of her head with both hands, then twisted it up to make a little nest to lean her head against the trunk. She didn’t move her head as she reached her hand out to arrange her backpack and bag more neatly next to her. Then, she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her duffel coat and sighed, closing her eyes.

She could hear the whine of cars on the road that skirted the field, and thought she could almost detect the river running along its banks. Then, the call of a few songbirds. She thought one might be a chaffinch, but she wasn’t sure. She liked this, not looking at anything, just listening to the world, feeling the breeze on her face. She could even smell the earth. It made a nice change from the world of her head, where she worried endlessly about everything.

She took another deep breath and exhaled. Someone was burning something, she thought. It was that sweet smoke that was made up of dried branches and dead leaves. Then, she heard another sound. A regular swish and thud and swish and thud and … it was getting closer. She opened one eye, then the other.

_Of course_.

It seemed inevitable and like a dream all at once, seeing the figure walk toward her.

“Somehow, I knew I’d find ya here,” Finn said as he slumped down to sit next to her, on the side not occupied by her bags.

She shifted away from him a little bit, making sure she didn’t touch him. “Oh, hello, I guess,” she said, in a tone of mock annoyance.

He smirked at her before shifting a little closer, to close the gap she created. “I never did get your last name, y’know.”

“What makes ya think I wanna give it ya?” Rae batted back, and winced, thinking her reply was a hair too quick.

Finn glanced down at his hands. “Well, I …” He cleared his throat, seeming unnerved.

“I’m only messin’ with ya. It’s Earl.”

Finn looked up at her, smiling crookedly. And then he said her name. “Rae Earl.” He looked right at her as he said it, and Rae got a chill through her spine.  _It’s pretty cold out_ , she reasoned.

She shook her head and huffed out a breath as she shrugged. “Finn Nelson?”

“Why’d ya say it like that?” he asked.

“What, I thought that’s how we were talkin’ now. Just usin’ each other’s names. You said my name like ‘Hi’ so I said your name like ‘How are ya?’ It certainly simplifies things.”

Rae knew she was talking a load of rubbish, but filling the silence up with words seemed the safest option.

“You always say stuff this weird?” Finn asked through a grin.

That word ‘weird’ made her wince imperceptibly, but she just shrugged again and said, “Yeah, fair warnin’, I’m cursed with bein’ a total weirdo.”

“No, no, I like it!” Finn rushed to explain. He looked at her for a moment, seemed to expect her to say something else. When she didn’t, he said “Better’n bein’ borin’, which is my problem.”

Rae leaned her head back and cocked it on its axis to peer at Finn, sizing him up after that statement. “Not bloody likely, Nelson.”

“No, it’s true! I’m just a borin’ average bloke. No special skills, no witty banter.”

Rae pursed her lips to one side. She saw his eyes flick down to her mouth for a second before he looked away, across the field. “Well, ya’ve got a pretty awesome leather jacket. That goes a long way in the place of skills and banter.”

He barked out a laugh and turned to her, eyes crinkled in mirth. “That’s good to know,” he chuckled.

They sat there silent after that for a long moment, looking out at the fields, each sneaking tiny glances at the other, but not feeling the need to talk.

Rae’s eyes fell on the bag she’d brought with her, hoping to run into Finn. And it seemed, from his opening line, he’d been looking for her, too. She didn’t let herself think about that too much, because it made her brain throb with confusion.

“Oh, hey. I … I was at the charity shop earlier and just happened to find somethin’ …” She picked up the brown bag and set it next to him.

He furrowed his brow. “For …?”

“Just open it. It’s not that excitin’.”

Finn pulled the bag open with one finger, peering inside. When he saw what it was, he looked back to Rae, eyebrows raised. “Really?” he asked.

Rae made a face that said, “Looks like it.”

He gently lifted the case out of the bag and set it on his lap.

“I thought ya could put your nan’s records in it.”

Finn smiled at the case. “How much was it?”

“It was really almost nothin’. I know Vera, and it was it a bit of a state when I found it, so she let me have it for 20p.”

Finn quickly lifted his head to look at her. “So … you fixed it up?” His confused expression shifted subtly to include his gratitude.

Rae looked down, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “It weren’t much work, just shined it up a bit.” After another moment of silence, Rae glanced up. “Y’might want to air it out before you give it her. It’s a bit musty inside. Couldn’t do anythin’ about that.”

Finn leaned forward a bit, but when the case bumped against his abdomen, he sat up straighter, like he was afraid he’d damaged it. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Just then, a wind blew through the meadow and put a chill in their bones. They both shuddered, then laughed.

“Think that’s my cue,” Rae said, picking up her backpack and standing up before Finn could extend a hand to help her. She leaned down to grasp the paper bag by its handles and proffered it to Finn. He slid the case back in, slowly and carefully. When she saw that he had it well in hand, she nodded and, already starting to turn, said, “Well, see ya round, maybe! Hope your Nan likes the case!” before striding back towards the road.

When she heard him call “Wait!” her heart soared before it sank. Though she wished she had the strength to keep on walking, to pretend she hadn’t heard him, she betrayed herself with a little hitch in her gait. He must know she heard him. She took a breath and sighed before turning around, making her face a mask of curiosity. At her core, she was happy he wanted to spend more time with her, but figured as soon as anyone from school saw them together, the whole fragile … thing … would shatter into dust.

“Just … I …” Finn seemed to be struggling to find words. “I’m headed to a mate’s … do … would ya wanna come along?”

Rae felt her expression changing; she knew she must be conveying the distrust that she felt. She started to shake her head, and Finn took a step toward her.

“I mean, I understand if you’re … busy.” Rae looked down, at her shoes. She wasn’t busy, but she could lie. Finn continued. “He works at a garage; he’s not … I mean, he’s cool. It’s just …” he sighed. The hand that didn’t hold the bag crossed his chest and clutched the opposite elbow. He looked at her for a second before dropping his gaze and glancing away across the meadow as he said, “I … I like talkin’ to ya.” He smirked, glancing back to gauge her reaction. “I don’t much like talking to anyone, really.”

Rae smirked back. “So, am I s’posed to be flattered by this?”

Finn was quick to shake his head, “No, I was just …” It was then he saw her grin. “Messin’ wi’ me again, eh?”

“You make it so easy!” she joked.

Finn shifted the bag from one hand to the other. “Okay, so … are ya comin’?”

Rae bit her lip and sighed. “Yeah, alright, then.” As they walked, she had the strangest sensation that her life was drifting off course. Or, maybe, off of one course and onto another.

* * * * *

As they walked along, Rae mused that she actually did feel fucking flattered that this mega-fit bloke wanted to keep spending time with her. That he admitted to liking her weird conversation. Rae wasn’t great at math to begin with, but even if she worked on this equation for the rest of her life, it would never add up.

As they got closer to town, she started getting distracted and edgy again. Finn had been asking her some standard questions, and she was being cagey but casual. He’d figured out where she went to school, and she’d let it slip that she was an only child. He was, too, and seemed happy that they had something else in common. But now, she got quiet and still, eyes scanning for classmates and people who might give them stick for walking around together.

Finn seemed to psychically choose the route with the least traveled roads and then turned down an alley.

When Rae paused just off the street, Finn looked back to explain. “Shortcut. It’s just down here.”

She adjusted the strap of her backpack more squarely on her shoulder, then glanced over her shoulder before following him.

At the end of the alley, there was a sort of cul-de-sac filled with cars in various states of repair. To the left, the door of a large garage was ajar, and the tinny sound of the radio drifted out, playing a familiar tune. Then, from inside, a voice belted, “HOW MANY SPECIAL PEOPLE CHANGE?”

Finn shook his head and pushed the door open, yelling, “Oi, Chop! You’re killin’ us!”

A lad in a greasy overall pulled his head out from behind the bonnet of a Ford Mondeo.

“Us? D’ya have a mouse in ya pocket, you wanker?” Seeing Rae, he straightened up and dropped the wrench he was holding onto a tool cart next to him. “Oh, sorry! Ya never said you was bringin’ company along, Finny-boy!” He grabbed a fistful of blue shop towels and wiped his hands to get the grease off of them, then extended one. “I’m Chop, and that speccy wanker in the corner is Archie.”

Rae shook his hand as she looked over her shoulder to see another boy, wearing a rugby shirt and Harrington jacket sitting on a pile of boxes draped with a tarp. He was reading a hefty tome with a long title, and hoisted it a little higher in greeting. She glanced back at Chop and then shifted her stance to sort of face the midpoint between them, and said, “I’m Rae … as in Rachel.”

Both boys smiled widely at her, and Archie replied, “Oh, we know. Finn’s been extolling your virtues. Just a bit.”

Finn hunched his shoulders and dropped his head, muttering, “Shut the fuck up, mate.” Then he murmured, “Sorry, sorry,” in her direction. “Maybe this was a bad idea …”

Rae felt like she’d stumbled into an alternate universe. Here were three guys her age, being nice to her, and the fittest among them had been telling the other two about her? Her eyes darted around to find the hidden cameras.

The final strains of Champagne Supernova faded away, and Chop cursed. “Shit! Missed the rest o’ the tune! I need to get a real stereo in here, pronto.”

Rae smiled. “Where’d ya find a station not playin’ horrendous holiday hits of the Stone Age?”

His blue eyes widened in surprise before he guffawed with laughter. “Where’d ya find a chick this funny, Finn?” he asked, when he’d recovered.

Finn cleared his throat to answer when a girl with long red hair bounced in from the alley. “Chop!”

Chop spun around, matching the girl’s stance, leaning forward, both hands out, his eyes wider yet. “Izzy!”

“Me dad says ‘have you finished the carburetor yet, you lazy sod?’” She grinned, blushing a little.

“Does he want it done fast, or does he want it done right?” Chop quipped back.

“I think both!” Izzy chirped.

Chop laughed. Izzy started to join him, but stopped. “He’s really annoyed, Chop. He says he’ll stop lettin’ ya practice on his motors if you’re just goin’ ta piss about.” She looked down, biting her lip. “Or summat like that.”

Wiping his hands on his coverall, Chop sighed. “Fair enough. Alrigh’, you lot, piss off out of here. I’ll see ya later on at the pub … if I finish before closin’.”

Rae caught Izzy’s lingering glance at Chop, and a corner of her mouth lifted in a wry smile. Archie stood up and tucked his book under his arm, and asked, “Chippy?” Finn and Izzy nodded, and Finn looked at Rae, a questioning gaze on his face.

Oh, shit, she thought. Food. She could just get a Coke. That was really all she could afford, anyway. She really shouldn’t risk it. Bound to be some wankers there, only to happy to puncture any delusions she had about feeling happy for a minute or two.

“Uhhh, not sure I can make it. Need to get home and … help me mum with tea.”

Izzy’s expression brightened and dulled all in the space of her talking, Rae noticed.

“I’m Izzy!” she said. “Are ya sure ya can’t come along?”

Rae’s brow furrowed at this ball of sunshine and rainbows that had taken human form. “I’m Rae, and yeah, I’m sure. Sorry.”

Izzy shrugged. “Maybe another time!”

Rae nodded. Best not upset the resilient optimist.

Finn frowned. “Can I–can I walk ya back? I wanted … it’s nothin’ really, just …” He struggled with his words.

“Why don’t ya walk me to the end of the alley? My house is the opposite direction from the chippy. Don’t want to make you late!” Rae said, turning to return the pair of goodbye waves she got from Archie and Izzy.

They scuffed their way along the uneven pavement of the alleyway. Before they reached the street, Finn stopped. Rae followed suit.

He cleared his throat. “What are ya up to on Christmas?” Finn asked, eyes cast down. “Me dad an’ me, we’re goin’ over to Archie’s family for Christmas breakfast. That’s, like, tradition. Been doin’ it ever since …” He allowed his words to fade out and didn’t finish the thought.

“Not much. My uncle Mark is comin’ over with me gran, but we eat Christmas lunch at, like, 11:30, and then we just sorta … stare at each other until they leave. Gran likes to be home in time to watch telly at hers.” As Rae said it aloud, she realized how lame it sounded. But Rae always appreciated her mum most on Christmas, because she got up at an ungodly time to put the turkey in, did all the fixings. Then, she put up with her own mum coming and sniffing about the state of her sofa covers or the dust on the blinds or whatever it was that she found fault with. When Gran and Uncle Mark finally buggered off, they usually pulled the Viennetta out of the freezer, and listened to Christmas music … it was time for just the two of them that Rae genuinely enjoyed.

“We’re goin’ over t’the rehab center Christmas afternoon, to visit me nan.” He shuffled his feet a bit and Rae sort of shrugged. “If … if ya get tired of starin’ at people … y’could always come along. Y’know, if you wanted to.”

Rae mused for a moment. Would her mum ever dream of letting her leave the house on Christmas Day? It had not been attempted in her memory, so maybe she would consider it. “I’d have to ask me mum … she’s pretty … well, she’s … I dunno what she’ll say. Maybe?”

Finn nodded. “I can call ya, maybe, an’ see what the verdict is?”

Rae froze, not knowing what to do or say. Did he … want her number? He was standing there with an expectant look on his face. “Uh, sure!” she finally said, snapping out of her dither. She leaned down to get her notebook out of her bag and tore a long corner off one of the blank pages near the back. Uncapping a pen, she looked around for a surface to write on. Finn noticed this and started to turn a bit; Rae drifted into a fantasy of running her hands all over his muscled back. She shook her head and grabbed her notebook again, using it to scribble her number on the scrap.

Finn took the paper from her fingers and inspected it. “Is that an eight, or a five?” he asked, pointed to the next to the last number.

“Oh, um, eight. It’s an eight.” Rae put her pen and notebook away, and swung her backpack up onto her shoulder.

Finn carefully folded the paper in half and in half again, unzipping the top pocket on his jacket and placing it there, zipping it closed a second later.

“See ya!” she said, propelling herself homeward.

“Yeah, definitely!” Finn shouted after her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I alluded to earlier, this chapter is quite sad. Trigger warnings for thoughts about self-harm and depression, but I tried to end it on a hopeful note! I’m not sure how long this story will be, but Christmas is coming!

As Rae walked home she couldn’t help but smile. He really wanted to see her again; for some reason, he liked talking to her. She was lost in reverie just long enough to be caught off-guard when Big G’s voice broke it.

“Oi, Jabba!”

Her eyes closed tightly, shoulders hunched. Her whole body contracted in on itself and she held her breath. She always wished she could teleport or disappear. Like, one second she’d be there, but as soon as someone started in on her, she could just wink out of existence and end up … somewhere. The record shop was safe; her room was safe. There weren’t a lot of places she felt like she could just BE, without being worried, being cautious, waiting for the words that kept wearing her down.

She’d once made a list of all the insults she got in one week. Near the end of last term, about the time Chloe started to really drift away. It was an elaborate grid system, a list of unique insults (Jabba, Fatty, Thunder Thighs, Lardy, Fat Arse, Wide Load, etc …) on one side, and then there were hash marks to indicate the frequency she’d been called each name, and notes to say whether it was at school, in the street, or somewhere else.

It seemed like a productive thing to do, to catalog everything. It was happening, anyway, so why not quantify it? Why not figure out how to which power, to which degree people hated her.

Rae thought about that hate. Those who displayed calculated indifference made her feel a little helpless, but they were nothing to those who shouted at her in the street, called her names, trying to put her in her place, like they knew where it was she should go. Like there was a specific place, maybe on a lower shelf, definitely out of view and out of the way, that she should exist, if she  _must_.

She honestly didn’t know if they had help create the dark place within her, or if they could just detect it and were calling her out because of it. Did they help to break her, or was she fundamentally broken? And, could anyone help her? Finn seemed to have good intentions; the first person in recent memory who seemed genuinely nice to her. Or maybe that wasn’t the point. Maybe he wasn’t there to help her, but to give her a reason to want to help herself.

When she came back to reality, she realized that she’d somehow blocked out Big G. She was almost home, and no one was following her. She shook her head in wonder. Maybe she  _had_ teleported?

* * * * *

Rae knew the key to getting anything off her mum was timing. Ask her for anything when she was in a good mood, and she was guaranteed success. However, when she got home, her mum was up, but banging plates onto the counter. Things weren’t looking good. She knew she’d have to lay the groundwork early, if she had any chance of getting to leave for a bit. Christmas was only two days away, and if her mum’s mood didn’t improve, she’d be out of luck.

“That you, Rachel?” Her mum’s voice was strident, loud.

“Yeah, sorry.” She didn’t even know what she was sorry about, but she felt she should apologize when her mum was this way.

“Thanks for leavin’ the washin’ up! That was a lovely thing to wake up to.”

_Oh, shit._  She’d completely forgotten about the dishes in the sink.

“I was gonna do ‘em, sorry!” She dropped her bag near the door and walked in to the kitchen to find her mum red-faced, eyebrows drawn together in annoyance.

“I ask so little of ya, Rachel … and that’s usually what I get.” Linda swept past her into the lounge and Rae stood alone in the middle of the kitchen, tears pricking the back of her eyes.

_Useless_ … The word floated through her brain and she nodded in agreement. That’s what she was.

She saw the dishes her mum had washed were still wet, so she grabbed a tea towel and proceeded to dry them, staring into space, blinking away tears.

The drawer wasn’t open, but the object contained within glinted in her brain, like a reminder, a helpful suggestion, letting her know it was there if she needed it. The struggle to stop herself was harder every time. And sometimes she didn’t want to stop herself, didn’t know why she should. Sometimes the reason was her mum, but not today. Did she have any other reason? If her mum didn’t even like her, didn’t even … she sighed. Her eyes flicked over to the drawer. It seemed to be outlined in light, like what was inside was shining, glowing. She blinked. Trick of the eye.

She took a step toward it, then glanced over her shoulder. Her mum wasn’t standing there, which meant no witness if she wanted to just … take it. Take it upstairs to her room and let it help her. It was a strange type of help, but it seemed to … momentarily unburden her. She could breathe better, focusing on the one thing that kept all the rest of her thoughts out of her brain. If only for a single moment.

Her hand reached for the drawer pull, ready to grasp it, when the phone rang, startling her. She paused, breathing quick, listening for her mum’s voice.

“Hello?” Her mum’s voice cut through the silence. “Who? Who did you want? Speak up!”

A pause followed; Rae held her breath.

“Yeah, hold on.” Another pause. “Rae! Telephone!”

The words sounded strange together. It had been so long since her name preceded “Telephone!” that she wasn’t sure she understood what it meant.  

“Rae!” Her mum barked her name. “The phone is for you!”

“Yeah, sorry, comin’,” she muttered as she hurried to the hall.

Her mum thrust the handset at her. “Don’t be long.”

“I won’t. I dried the dishes. Sorry.”

Her mum gave her a terse nod, then looked at the phone. “Go on, answer it.”

_Oh, right_. She lifted the receiver to her ear. “H’lo?”

“Hey, hi. It’s, um, it’s Finn. I know ya prob’ly haven’t even had a chance to ask ya mum yet, bu’ I just wanted to say … thanks. Thanks for the case, for helpin’ me yesterday. Jus’ … thanks. I don’t think I said it, an’ I should’ve.”

She smiled into the phone, but bit her lip before responding. “It weren’t nothin’, Finn. I—I was happy to do it. I mean, it was a little weird how it happened, but … yeah. No problem.”

There was a pause the other end. She could hear him clearing his throat. “Well, you’re right. It weren’t  _nothin’_ ; it were definitely … somethin’. It was … well, like I said, thanks. I … I hope I’ll see ya Christmas.”

“I’ll ask. I hope so, too.”  _Two days_ , she thought.  _That’s a reason._

They mutually murmured their goodbyes and she carefully replaced the phone in it’s cradle.

She began to chew on a fingernail thoughtfully. Wandering into the lounge, her eyes flicked to her mum sitting on the settee, arms crossed and her mouth set in a line as she frowned at the telly.

“I’m sorry, Mum. I was gonna do ‘em. I jus’ … went for a walk and lost track o’ time.”

Linda sighed, shifting in her seat, allowing her arms to loosen their grip on each other a bit. “It’s jus’ … it’s only you an’ me, Rae. An’ I’m out all night workin’ to keep a roof over our heads, y’know?”

Rae nodded. “I know. I know. An’ I—I wasn’t …”

Her mum looked up in time to see Rae’s face fall.

“Oh, chuck. Listen, I know, I can be a right cow when I’m on nights. It’s just … I’m never quite rested. I can’t ever seem to get enough sleep, an’ I’ve still got stuff to do ‘round here, an’ it puts me on edge … I jus’ need ya t’help out. I can’t always be askin’ ya ten times to do somethin’, yeah?”

Rae nodded. “Yeah. I know. I’m—“

“—sorry, yeah.  _I_  know.” Linda patted the spot next to her. “C’mere. Sit yourself down an’ let’s watch somethin’ together, yeah?”

Rae sank onto the sofa and grabbed a pillow to hug in front of her as Antiques Roadshow played away.

* * * * *

When the credits rolled, her mum stood up. “Cuppa?” she queried, on her way to the kitchen.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Rae coughed. “Hey, mum?”

Linda was already in the hall, and stuck her head around the doorframe. “Yeah?”

“Can I ask ya somethin’?” Rae squirmed in her seat.

Her mum raised an eyebrow. “Sure, jus’ lemme put the kettle on.”

Rae heard the tap running, and bit another nail. When her mum returned, she admonished Rae. “Stop that! You’ll ruin your nail beds if ya keep bitin’ ‘em to the quick.”

Rae dropped her hand in her lap, and pulled it inside her sleeve.

“What’s up, love?”

“Um, well … this might—I mean, YOU might … just …” she faltered.

“This have anythin’ to do with your phone call?”

Rae’s eyes flew to meet her mum’s. “How’d ya—yeah, sort of.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. So, I’ve been hangin’ out wi’ … well, I’m not sure … we’re kind of friends, I guess. An’ I helped … his gran is in the hospital. I helped him pick out a gift for ‘er, an’ …”

Linda nodded at Rae to continue.

She rushed the rest of the words. “He wondered if I could go with him an’ his dad to give it her.”

“That it? I don’t see why not.”

“Well … thing is … they’re goin’ on Christmas. Mid-day. After lunch, so …” Rae looked down at where her hand should be, her hidden fingers bunching the fabric of her sleeve into a strange stump.

“Rachel! You know that Christmas is family time! Can’t ya go another time?” Linda crossed her arms again, lips pursed.

“I know, bu’ … they’re a family, too. So, that’s why … I mean, it wouldn’t be for long.”

Linda sighed. “I understand, but this is  _your_  family. You only see your own gran an’ uncle a few times a year.”

“I know. I told Finn ya might not … he jus’ wanted to … I’m not sure what he wants me there for. It was jus’ nice to be asked.” Rae slumped lower on the sofa. “It’s fine … I’ll tell ‘im I can’t.”

The kettle clicked off, and Linda got up to pour the tea. She was gone a few minutes, having to move the tea bag from one cup to the other and brew each tea separately. She returned bearing two mugs, handing Rae her favorite one, UM BONGO on the side in puffy letters. Looking down into the tea, Rae could tell her mum had given her the first go on the bag. A corner of her mouth curled up.

“It would jus’ be a short while?” Linda asked, blowing on the surface of her own brew to cool it.

Rae straightened in her seat a little, a seed of hope taking root. “Yeah, not long. An’ I wouldn’t have asked, except …”

Her mum gave her a questioning look, a mouthful of tea prevented her from forming words.

Rae took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling.  _Might as well tell her_ , she thought. “I haven’t had a friend in a while.” What she didn’t say, was that she didn’t trust that she could say no and still have Finn as a friend. He wanted this from her, and if she couldn’t give it, if she wasn’t allowed, he could just … go. Disappear like Chloe; vanish like her dad.

Linda had glanced back down at her mug, and looked up in surprise. “Wha’ about Chloe? An’, an’ …” but she couldn’t think of another name.

Rae looked down at her tea. “Chloe an’ me … we haven’t really talked in months. An’ all the other girls … well, the other weirdos like me, we all sit by ourselves. I think people think that because we’re all … well, weird, we should join together. But the only thing we’ve got in common is that no one else likes us.”

Linda tutted her tongue. “I’m sure that’s not …”

“I know you’re sure it’s not that bad, Mum! Because I never let you know how bad it is! I know you’ve got loads of other stuff to worry about; I don’t want to be another problem for ya.” She turned away from her mum, not wanting her to see how upset she was.

“Oh, Rae. Rachel. Come here, chicken,” Linda set her tea down and held her arms out. Rae furrowed her brows, carefully set her mug on the carpet, and leaned into them for an awkward embrace. “Why didn’t ya tell me?”

Rae sniffed. “You’re so busy with work and keepin’ your roof over our heads … an’ it’s not like I wanna admit that no one likes me.”

Linda leaned back, her hands now grasped Rae’s shoulders. “You were such a happy little girl. I never had to worry about ya makin’ friends. You were so bold. If anythin’, I had to worry about ya bein’ too forward.” She lifted a hand to smooth the hair away from Rae’s face. “What happened?”

Rae scoffed out a laugh through the tears that welled in her eyes. “Life happened, I guess.”

Linda nodded solemnly. “But now … ya’ve made a new friend?”

“I–I guess so? He’s … I dunno. We just seem to like hangin’ out.”

“Oh, yes. A boy, I forgot.” Linda’s voice telegraphed her concern in a few short syllables.

“Oh, it’s not like that, Mum. We met at the record shop; we just like some o’ the same bands and stuff. An’ he … he wanted t’get his nan something special for Christmas, since she’s in rehab for her hip, an’ I sorta … helped. I think he wants me to be there ‘cause I … well, like I said, I helped.”

It was Linda’s turn to furrow her brow. “You’d be here for Christmas lunch, yeah?”

Rae rolled her eyes. “Like I’d ever skip that.”

“An’ you’d be back when?”

“Ummm, definitely in time for Viennetta …” she quipped. “Prob’ly only take an hour or two … not long.”

Her mum nodded slowly. “Alrigh’, then. Y’can go.”

Rae’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah, sure. But  _you’re_  tellin’ your gran why. I’m not broaching that subject wi’ her majesty.”

Rae winced at the thought of that conversation, but shrugged. “Sure, whatever!” She bounced up and gave her mum a proper hug, short but sincere. “Thanks, mum. Really. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, chicken. Sorry I was cross earlier.” She patted Rae’s arm and turned back to the telly.

* * * * *

When the show was over, Linda headed upstairs to change for work, and told Rae to call for a takeaway as a treat. She’d be cooking enough on Christmas Day, she said.

Rae picked up the phone and caught herself before she dialed the number for the Chinese place. Instead, she dialed 1-4-7-1 and jotted down the number that the Caller ID recited. Then she pressed 1 again, to call back.

After two rings, she heard his voice say, “Hello?”

“Um, hi, Finn?”

“Yeah, is that Rae?”

“Yeah, sorry, I used 1471. Hope that’s okay. Still dunno your dad’s name, an’ there are a lot of Nelsons in the book.” She laughed.

There was silence on the other end, and Rae thought maybe the call had disconnected. Or Finn had hung up. “H’lo?”

“Yeah?” Finn replied quickly.

“Oh, sorry. Thought maybe—never mind. Jus’ wanted ta let ya know … I squared it wi’ me mum. I can come for a bit, after lunch is over. An’ after I’ve helped wi’ the dishes.”

“Really? Great! I’ll let me dad know. I’ll … why don’t you call me when you’re done? On Christmas, like.”

Rae grinned. “Sure, lemme jus’ make sure I have your number right …”

* * * * *

When she hung up, she smiled for a minute, holding the phone close to her heart.

When she heard the phone’s loud dissonant wailing, bemoaning being off the hook for so long, she pressed the button to hang up and then dialed Hunan Palace from memory to place their usual order.


End file.
